


Fancy Juice

by rileywrites



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26622073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rileywrites/pseuds/rileywrites
Summary: Nile has been immortal for fifteen years.Dying never gets less terrifying and disorienting."C'mon, Nile, wake up."
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Nile Freeman
Comments: 34
Kudos: 263





	Fancy Juice

**Author's Note:**

> (Unrelated to "Clay and Violets")

Nile has been immortal for fifteen years.

Dying never gets less terrifying and disorienting.

"C'mon, Nile, wake up."

Somehow, the least violent deaths can have the worst consequences. Nile knew the drink was poisoned as soon as she tasted it, but it was too late. Death came too fast to be stopped and too slow to be a relief.

"Nile, I need you to wake up. I need you to stay with me."

It's hard to muster the energy to open her eyes. Puking yourself to death and then back to life will do that to you.

"Oh thank fuck." Booker looks like he's seen a ghost. He holds her up so she can retch without aspirating. "That's it, get the last of it out."

"Fuck." It comes out raw, voice ruined from the poison and the stomach acid.

"I couldn't agree more." Booker squeezes the back of her neck. "Let's get out of here, before they realize your body is gone."

"Help me?" Nile can tell her body isn't done healing yet.

"I've got you." Booker hoists her up, his arm around her waist and her arm around his shoulders. They've done this a thousand times before, so even Nile's weak body can handle the muscle memory. "Good?"

"As I can be." Everything hurts. "Fuck poison."

"Fuck poison," Booker agrees.

Nile lets her head hang as Booker maneuvers her back to the car. Keeping her eyes open is too hard.

The next time she regains full consciousness, Booker is carrying her into the safehouse. It's tiny, a bolt-hole Joe and Nicky bought in the '40s.

"You need to shower," Booker says, propping her against the counter. "Need help?"

"Please."

Booker disarms her, putting her weapons aside to clean later. Nile lifts her arms so he can get her shirt off.

"Careful, I don't want to get any more vomit on your skin," he warns, maneuvering it over her head and tossing it on the floor. "I will burn that later."

Together, they get Nile out of her clothes and into the shower. Booker sits on the closed toilet lid to ensure she doesn't pass out again.

By the time she's clean, Nile is back to her baseline level of exhaustion.

"I'm good, Book."

Booker hands a towel around the shower curtain.

"I'll handle our clothes, then I'll take my turn."

Nile dries off some and wraps the towel around herself. Getting out of the shower is a bit of a risk, but Booker steadies her.

"Thanks. I'm gonna get dressed."

"And drink some water."

"And drink some water," Nile parrots, her smile belying her mocking tone.

Nile ends up wearing one of Booker's umpteen denim shirts and a pair of athletic shorts that were probably Joe's at some point. She makes a mental note to pick up some more clothes for her go-bag before they leave. They don't keep much at the less-used safehouses.

Booker will worry if she goes to sleep too soon, so Nile settles in one of the two mismatched chairs at the table wedged into the corner of the living space.

Booker strips to his underwear to examine the damage. The worst of their sullied clothes go into the furnace, the rest into the pile for laundry.

"I'll be quick," he promises. "Drink your water, and don't fall asleep without me there. Deal?"

"Deal." Nile crosses her heart. "Go, get clean. You deserve a hot shower."

She updates the team on the shitshow and stows her satellite phone in her backpack. She'll worry about the implications of this fuckery tomorrow. For now, she just wants to go to bed.

Booker emerges from the bathroom in clean underwear and a tank top, no longer smelling vaguely of Nile's death throes. He looks soft and cozy, damp hair hanging in his eyes.

"C'mon, bed time. You're mostly asleep already."

Nile gets into bed while Booker checks all the locks again. He joins her, crawling under the mountain of quilts and settling on his side facing her.

Nile holds out her hand, and he takes it, thumb skimming her pulse point.

"I'm okay," she whispers. "We're okay."

The long, painful deaths are always the hardest to cope with on both sides of the encounter.

"I know." Booker forces a tiny smile. "Get some sleep."

Nile is not in a place to argue. She tugs the quilts up to her chin with her free hand, closes her eyes, and slips almost immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep.

...

Nile wakes an unknown number of hours later alone, a note left on Booker's pillow.

_Went to get some groceries. Eat something, please. Will be back by noon local. - B._

It's only eleven. She is hungry though, thanks to the total evacuation of dinner last night.

Nile finds a granola bar in the pantry that isn't stale yet. It'll do.

She's halfway through the (kind of shitty) granola bar when Booker gets back with the groceries.

"Look who's up. Catch." He pulls something out of the bag and tosses it at her. "I found the fancy juice you like."

Nile catches the bottle and grins.

"Fuck yeah. Shit like this is why I'm in love with you, Book."

She has the cap off and the bottle to her lips before the comment registers. Before she realizes how still Booker has become.

"Yeah?" He asks, carefully casual.

Nile takes stock. She doesn't want to answer this rashly.

Looking back at the past fifteen years through this lens, a clear picture starts to form.

"Yeah," Nile finally says. "Yeah, I love you."

Booker puts the last few things in the fridge.

"I got a pack of t-shirts," he says, taking the grocery bag into the bedroom.

Nile sits there with her half-eaten granola bar, processing what the hell just happened.

Did she just ruin their shared eternity?

Booker comes back in before she can spiral. His boots thud on the linoleum.

A man on a mission, Booker pulls her out of the chair into his arms and kisses her. Nile wraps her arms around his neck.

Nile feels a piece of her soul click into place that she didn't even realize she was missing.

When they finally part, moments or days or years later, Booker rests his forehead against hers.

"I love you, too. I'm in love with you."

The reassurance soothes a brand-new ache in Nile's chest. She plays with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Good. That's... that's good. Because I love you." Nile kisses him again. "So this is a thing we're doing?"

"I've been doing it far longer than you realize," Booker says in that pained, half-joking tone that means he's serious. "It's about time you joined me."

**Author's Note:**

> Anon prompt: "nile/booker, the first time both of them said "I love you" to the other."  
> Find my personal blog at [reactingcaptain](https://reactingcaptain.tumblr.com/) and my writing-exclusive blog at [rileywrites](https://rileywrites.tumblr.com/).


End file.
